Two figures sat directly opposite from one another, separated only by a beaten and aged desk. Piles of paper were stacked on top of the desk, most looked to be brand new but there were a few that appeared to have yellowed with time. One of the figures, an older gentleman with slick black hair and a rugged yet tired looking face, ruffled the top right corner with his index finger every now and then as he held the document in his hands. The fluttering of the papers edge made no sound as his finger continued the slow and cautious gesture; it was something that the older gentleman had always done. Most likely it was just a habit that he had picked up over the years. At least, that was what the other figure had always assumed. She had never cared to find out if there was a purpose or story behind it and the gentleman before her never gave any mention or clues as to why he did it.

The second figure, a young girl with clumsily sheered black hair and a ragged yet plain looking gown, sat in front of the desk. She continued to eye the man’s hands as he played with the paper, unsure if he cared about the fact that they had been like this ever since she had been quietly ushered into the man’s office. Not a word had been spoken between the two as they sat directly opposite of the other, to her it felt like an eternity had passed but for the figure before her it must have felt like just an ordinary day.

Her dark, emerald green eyes flicked from one side of the room to the other. Her back never breaking its upright posture as she slowly examined every inch of her father’s study.

The room felt bleak, claustrophobic and even lonely at times as she focused on one area or another. Her eyes were beginning to notice the dark and cramped looking shadows hiding in the corners or beneath the countless drawers and cabinets that lined the walls of the room. What little candlelight there was appeared to be proven useless as their light vanished into nothingness as the tiny flames danced about, their graceful movements of the seemingly insignificant, manmade fire making no difference as their light simply dissipated into the ever hungry void filled shadows.

‘Has it always been this dark?’ She asked herself in the back of her mind as her eyes focused on the half closed curtains that loomed just beyond her father.

No, she didn’t think so. She assured herself as her eyes moved to the floor where bright rays of light shimmered brilliantly against the dulled wooden surface. It was barely past midday if the beams of light that now pierced the heavy, ornate curtains had anything to say about her worries.

This was one of the brightest rooms within her family’s manor.

At least that's how she always remembered it; the entire back wall that now stared down in front of her was almost entirely made up of either plain or stained glass murals that depicted her family’s history.

It wasn’t the lack of lighting that made the room appear as dark as it was at the moment; it was the solemn and tense mood between the two individuals that made it seem as such.

Her eyes moved away from the curtains and eventually settled on a painting that she had no recollection of seeing before. It was an obviously older painting but it had a style that she was very familiar with. In it stood her father with his right hand over her mother’s shoulder as she sat on some sort of chair, next to her were their children. These were some of her older brothers and sisters before she and several more children were born into the family. Her mother smiled happily as she held a baby boy who couldn’t have been older than a year. The other children looked to be well behaved but since she had grown up with them, she knew that they were more than a handful at times. One of her parents must’ve threatened the children to behave as they were prone to do when the family was gathered for similar occasions. She presumed that it was her mother who had made the threats as these types of paintings was something she cherished and instilled as a time honored family tradition that happened every few years, or whenever a new member was brought into this world.

Meanwhile her father had a very serious look to him as she swore that the eyes moved to gaze upon his daughters figure. The disapproving stare chilled her to the bone as she could feel the resentment oozing out of the paint.

The painting had stood out to her because it was quite simply, out of date by more than a decade and at least five more children. She remembered doing the latest one because her mother had ‘unexpectedly’ gotten pregnant nearly two years ago. That woman always liked to hang around her husband with her arms wrapped around his, giggling or whispering about whatever it was that the couple found interesting.

The old man must’ve taken that painting down and replaced it with one where she wasn’t in it.

‘He must be done with me.’ She thought bitterly as she continued to stare into the painting.

“Iskra,” The gruff toned voice of her father called out.

She snapped her eyes back at him, staring into his sleep deprived eyes as he moved to place the last of the documents on the top of the desk before continuing.

“I-“He stopped himself from speaking further, his face twisting in thought as he stayed silent. It was as if he was unsure to continue his current train of thinking, a rare sight from the usually stubborn man. Maybe he wanted to be sure that what he was about to say wouldn’t offend his daughter in anyway. At least, that was what the young woman wanted to believe but she felt that such a thing wasn’t in the older man’s mind at the time.

“I trust…” He said after a while as he finally continued. “That I don’t need to make you aware of how difficult it was to get you here but the King believes in second chances, especially after hearing my thoughts on a matter that is very concerning for him.”

Iskra stayed quiet as she mulled over her father’s words. She wondered what the man was referring to but for the moment nothing in particular had come to her mind. Not that it really mattered however, he would eventually tell her what it was should the need for her to know become important.

“That, however,” Her father went on, taking her silence as a motion for him to continue. “Will require some sacrifices on your behalf.” He had placed a noticeable emphasis on his choice of words this time. It was one of his ways to tell someone to either pay attention or to be prepared for what was to come.

A sacrifice, was it? What sort of sacrifice would she have to make that didn’t already result in her humiliation and ostracizing from the very noble society that she was born and raised to be a very part of?

Hadn’t she already suffered enough with the humiliation of having to listen to rumors that the very Crown Prince that she was betrothed to marry the moment she was born had set his eyes set on another girl? A girl that was far below her in rank for that matter.

What about the rage that overtook her when she found those very inane rumors to be true, weren’t the tears and misery enough of a punishment? She heard the whispers of the servants, the stares of feign sympathy from both friends and family.

What of the show trial that she was dragged into when she failed to kill the girl? Wasn’t her failure to murder that upstart of a bitch enough? That failure of a Baron’s daughter needed to learn her real place in the world of nobility and she made sure that the blonde whore would be reminded of it for the rest of her life.

Thinking back to the wound that she had slashed onto that hussy’s face brought a wicked smile to her lips, she was sure that she would always smile over the wound she had caused.

What of her time in the dungeons of the royal palace? Wasn’t it enough that she had to go through the misery of having her well-groomed and long raven black hair sheared off like some sort of debtor-slave? Or was being forced to wear the rags of the lowliest, dirt eating peasant not good enough for the world? What about being chained to her cells wall? She had to think carefully and figure out a puzzle of sorts for each time she had to reach out for her “meals.”

Thinking back on the past few weeks forced her smile to wipe itself clean off of her face, she didn’t like to be treated as if she was worse than the lowliest of peasants, the dirtiest of animals. She despised it and she would do everything she could imaginable to keep herself away from returning to that fate.

From now on she would wear only the highest quality of clothing, the shiniest of jewelry, the tastiest; warmest food and she would have her hair grow for however long it willed.

Not the gruel that she was forced to eat, nor the chewed up and filth-ridden rags that were forced upon her, or the disgust at having to feel the cold wind nipping at the scalp of her head.

“Now then,” His words brought her back to reality as her rage seemingly went unnoticed as the man reached for a large sheet of paper. It was familiar to Iskra as she had seen it more than a handful of times whenever she visited the royal residence before that damned incident had taken place. This particular type of paper was commonly used for royal decrees or announcements. It was rare for it to be used otherwise.

“By the order of the King,” Her father began as he kept his eyes on the document. “For the attempted murder and continual abuse of Lady Kasmira, the guilty by the name of Lady Iskra will be stripped of all titles and inheritances. Furthermore she shall be stripped of her family name and banished from the duchies of Tvosk, Rjog, Trimov, Adya, Orul, Norgosvod, Truvsk,, the punishment for returning to the aforementioned lands shall warrant the arrest of the guilty and will be brought to the nearest royal outpost where she shall be brought to justice.“

He paused as he tilted the top of the paper forward, his eyes looking towards the very daughter whose fate and future as a noble lady was now officially crushed. She was dumbfounded to say the least, let alone on the verge of utter devastation as she fought back tears from streaming down her face like a runaway river. She had of course failed to do so as she felt drip after drip of tears plop onto her hands that gripped the hems of what will be the last of her dresses.

“This isn’t official just yet.” Her father stated as he slowly placed the royal decree atop of his desk. “It will take into effect within two weeks’ time; from there any violations will be handled accordingly.”

His face had a stone cold look to it as he reached for another document. Iskra dared not imagine what else could be done to her. He cleared his throat as he began to read from the next royal document.

“By royal decree and order of the King, the individual known simply as Iskra shall be banished to the duchy of Voldigrov where she shall be charged to charter a complete and accurate map that will be given to the kingdom upon its completion. To accompany her on this task, she shall be given a retinue of five hundred soldiers from Duke Radoslav and a levy of six thousand men throughout the kingdom. In order to rightfully command this retinue the aforementioned individual shall be given the title of Lady and will be henceforth known as Lady Iskra. May the Gods smile upon our hearths and kingdom.”

Iskra was both confused and horrified by what she had just heard. To be banished from the kingdom was one thing but to be banished into the cursed and horrific lands of Voldigrov, known throughout the kingdom as simply the ‘Dark Lands’, as well as given the lowliest title of the king’s nobles sounded far too outrageous to be real.

Surely this was a poor tasting jest from her father.

She brought her head up and opened her mouth to speak. If this was a joke from the very man that sat in front of her then it was only appropriate for her to end it now and have her real fate be read to her.

“Father, I-“

Her head smacked hard into the carriages wooden frame, the sudden yet sharp twang of pain brought her back to the present day as she clutched at the side of her head followed by a quick and high pitched yelp.

She didn’t feel any traces of blood oozing from her wound but she could feel a nasty bump, just to be safe however she brought her hand in front of her eyes to confirm that she was in fact not bleeding. Satisfied that all she had to worry about was the lump on the side of her head she snapped her face forwards and stared menacingly towards the drivers’ end of the carriage.

“Driver!” She yelled out, forcing the two other passengers to jump in their seats.

“Driver, open that window!” She demanded from the man but either he couldn’t hear her or he paid her no heed as the viewport to the outside remained closed.

“L-lady Iskra…” Came the soft voice of one of the passengers as she brought up her hands and tried to quiet the young woman down.

“Please calm yourself; the driver is doing the best he can.”

The speaker was an older woman with greying hair that went down just past her shoulders. She had her haired tied up neatly at one point during the start of the journey but the rough roads had all but seen her efforts become fruitless. The woman was somewhere around her forties and had been in her family’s service for quite some time.

She wasn’t sure how long exactly, but according to that dreadful man that called himself her ‘father’ she was brought alongside a small retinue of servants from her mother’s household once her parents had married. If she remembered right, her name was Sylvia.

Prior to this expedition she was sure that the two of them hadn’t met before, or if they had then she was far too young to remember. It wasn’t because she was so uptight that she hadn’t learned the names of her family’s servants. It was because each member of the family had their own set of servants assigned to them. Her mother and ‘father’ each had their own while her brothers and sisters also had their own set of servants.

She wasn’t sure if the other duke households had a similar structure, as her friends had always mentioned the fact that her family had far more servants than they did, but she saw it as some sign that her family was far more powerful than most of the other noble houses.

“The best he can?” She snarled out as she kept her hand over the injured side of her head. “The ‘best’ he’s done is run through every hole in this entire valley!”

The entire convoy had to stop several times within the past two days thanks multiple wagons having their axels and wheels shattered at various points during the journey. Thankfully the carriage that Iskra was in hasn’t suffered the same fate but there were times where she felt the driver was intentionally trying to destroy bits and pieces of the vehicle.

“Y-you’ve heard what the duke said.” The older woman struggled to say as she continued to motion for the young lady to soften her voice. “These passes are nothing more than old brigand routes. There’s no way for proper roads to even exist out here.”

Sylvia looked more ragged than she was at the start of their journey and Iskra had reason to suspect that the older woman wasn’t all too happy to have been selected to accompany her into the kingdoms most dangerous and mysterious duchy.

‘She must think she’s being punished.’ The young girl thought as she moved to continue staring out the window with a disgruntled huff. The two of them had barely known each other for a little over a week and Iskra had already decided that the grey haired woman was far too annoying for her liking.

Was it the soft and submissive tone in her voice or could it have been the fact that the woman always seemed to look to others for some kind of confirmation to whatever strange thoughts and fantasies she was having in the back of her head.

Why her? The woman must be wondering Iskra thought to herself as she watched the older servant shift her eyes back and forth between the young maiden and the older, armored soldier who sat opposite of the young lady.

The gentleman was sitting straight forward, his eyes looking over to Sylvia’s uneasy form as his head rested over his hand. The man was clearly unimpressed with their surroundings and compared to the servant, wasn’t all that concerned about his fate or the journey itself.

However, he still had a hand over the sword that lay across his lap. His mind was ready for action even if his face didn’t show it.

A large coat hid a shiny but well-worn set of chainmail beneath its rugged brown leather. She had requested that the man remove his armor, or that filthy coat at the very least, when she notified him that he would be travelling with her but the old soldier had simply nodded his head and simply grunted out a wordless reply.

It was intended as an inoffensive gesture but she had found herself seething at his blasé regards for her commands.

She had been informed that he had been placed in charge of any and all military matters for the expedition and she suspected that any decisions that she wished to implement were to be at the whims and desires of one of her father’s royal soldiers. She suspected that something as a simple suggestion to camp for the night would be denied if the older man deemed it necessary to do so.

‘What was the point of being ‘placed’ in charge if I’m nothing more than a showpiece?’ She mumbled in the back of her mind. Why not just marry her off to some foreign noble if the kingdom wanted her gone so badly?

“That’s correct.” The man said as he shifted his body. “What little trails there are in this valley can hardly be considered appropriate for the wagons and carriages within this caravan.”

Sylvia perked up as she heard the gentleman speak up.

“Captain Boris…Why was such a trail chosen in the first place? Surely there must have been better ways to get inside of the duchy.”

Captain Boris was, and had been, a common sight among her father’s various retinue of servants and retainers. With her family being a well-known martial household, their soldiers were said to be one of the best in the kingdom and was even stated to rival even the kings own personal guard when it came to both experience and prowess. She wasn’t sure how true that was but she had constantly heard her father bolstering about some campaign in such and such duchy as he went about chasing bandits and runaway prisoners.

A mere pittance compared to previous military campaigns when the kingdom was still forming and had been at constant war with its now peaceful neighbors.

She was surprised to see a well-liked individual going along with her but she surmised that it had more to do with keeping an eye on the family’s wayward daughter and less about getting rid of a troublesome commander.

“There is no other option, if I may be so blunt.” The captain answered as he crossed his arms with a sigh. “No other pass exists to the kingdoms knowledge and it has been noted that wagons are capable of making the trip into the Dark Lands.”

“So then…Will we be setting up an encampment once we leave the valley?”

The older man shook his head in denial as he motioned towards Iskra.

“No, we’ll be going deeper into the duchy and making camp there.”

Sylvia gasped at his words. It wasn’t too surprising to see that she hadn’t known where they were truly heading towards, considering that those who actually knew where they were to settle down were either in this very carriage or at the front of the caravan leading the way. It was thought that the less people that knew how deep they were to penetrate into the vilified duchy the better. Some of the peasants had already been arrested for trying to flee the levy once they had heard of where the expedition was going.

“Deeper?” The woman nearly screeched as her face began to turn pale at the captains’ words.

“Isn’t that really dangerous? What if-“

Boris cut her off with a long, drawn out sigh before she could continue loudly proclaim her fears to the outside world.

Whatever it was that he was thinking, Iskra couldn’t have known but she silently thanked him with a nod as the man gestured towards her.

“It was from the input of the young lady that we place our encampment so deep within the duchy.”

Both adults turned to her, Sylvia had a look of terror plastered over her face while the captain simply gestured for her to say something.

“Er-uh, yes. The captain is correct.” Iskra started to say before placing her hand up to stop the frightened woman from speaking.

“Thanks to previous expeditions it is believed there exists a mountain chain that can serve as an excellent site for our encampment. We would be protected from multiple angles and the risk of being attacked was considered to be greatly reduced compared to several other sites that were being considered at the time.”

Iskra motioned towards the window with her fingers. She noticed the servant woman to follow her fingers with a jerking motion as she stayed quiet for the moment but the look of anxiety was all too clear on her face.

“You said something about having our camp be somewhere near the entrance to this valley.” The young girl tapped the back of her fingers against the glass as she continued. “It would be a good idea and would allow for future supplies to largely go unheeded against future attacks from whoever happens to live in these lands, but the area around such a camp would be flat and open to multiple avenues of attack. If we were to be besieged than it was thought that we wouldn’t be able to hold out for very long and a retreat into the valley was seen as nothing more than a death spiral for any survivors.”

She allowed her words to sink in as her eyes settled onto the captains’ face. He sat there quietly with his arms crossed over his chest as he nodded his head in approval of what the girl was saying.

Sylvia, meanwhile, had a quiet and subdued look to her as she mulled over her charges words.

“So…” She said softly as she tapped a finger against her chin. “We would be safer?”

Both the captain and the young lady nodded their heads.

“At the cost of having our supplies become more open to attacks.” Boris said before Iskra could say anything else.

The young woman simply rolled her eyes and left the remainder of the explanation to the captain.

“But those attacks can be mitigated with properly routed patrols and the correct amount of guards from the kingdom. If we play our cards right than it would be a fool’s death for anyone who tries to attack the supply trains.”

The captain went on to further explain some of the benefits of the area surrounding their new home. The discussion revolved around nearby rivers and lakes, a forest, geography as well as the overall distance between one end of the duchy to the other.

The older woman listened intently as the man went on in detail about the decisions and discussions that had surrounded the mysterious duchy and their expedition into a supposed early grave. Color slowly returned to the woman’s face as the captain further explained the immediate future and why they were doing what they had set out to do. Iskra had quickly tuned out the conversation as she found the information to be old and uninteresting.

Time flew by as she watched the mountainside pass by the carriage’s window.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened but Iskra must have fallen asleep at some point as she awoke with a start as Captain Boris lightly nudged her shoulder as he called out her name.

“No turning back now.” He stated as he motioned for her to look outside.

Turning her head she looked outside to see a vast and mighty formation of rocks looming directly over their heads. The shadow it casted was immense as the early evening sun was blocked and the day seemingly appeared to have turned to night.

This was the infamous gate into the so called “Dark Lands”, the Twin Blades of Clor. Large, basaltic rocks jutted out from opposite ends of the valley to create the shape and appearance of two massive blades bursting from the earth and crossing over one another. Some took it as a sign that nature itself was warning those who would enter of the dangers they would face, while others believed the formation to belong to an ancient race of giants that was once said to have walked the world from before the gods went to create their choice of followers.

Wind howled and rattled against the carriage, causing it to sway against the forceful act of nature as Iskra heard a groaning sound coming from somewhere in the valley. Many people within the kingdom believed the Twin Blades to house the souls of the dead and the howling wind were their screams of agony and a way for them to warn others to turn back and return to their homes. She had scoffed at such rumors just a few weeks prior but now that she was actually staring down at the wicked formation, she couldn’t blame anyone for believing any of it.

It was an impressive sight to behold and an even grander welcome from her new home than she could’ve ever imagined.

‘What will happen to me?’ She wondered as she swallowed back her fears.